


baby i don't want to feel alone.

by buckyy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Police, M/M, The Departed AU, sorry for making zayn and niall evil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-03 09:26:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4095685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckyy/pseuds/buckyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their stories start out the same. They work hard, they train, they piss off the firemen. It’s all part of becoming a Massachusetts State Police Officer. They graduate at the same time, and Zayn Malik, the boy who grew up with criminals and was sent into the force as a mole, works his way up the corporate ladder easily. Liam Payne, the boy with a similar past who came out of it a better person, is ready to do the same. That is, until he meets Staff Sergeant Louis Tomlinson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A Departed AU! I'm gonna make Eleanor Madolyn because she is the love of my life, but I'm ignoring the romance between her and Colin/Zayn and between her and Billy/Liam. In my mind she's dating Sophia but hey it's up to you. 
> 
> Written for my bud Lewis!

Their stories start out the same. They work hard, they train, they piss off the firemen. It’s all part of becoming a Massachusetts State Police Officer. They graduate at the same time, and Zayn Malik, the boy who grew up with criminals and was sent into the force as a mole, works his way up the corporate ladder easily. Liam Payne, the boy with a similar past who came out of it a better person, is ready to do the same. That is, until he meets Staff Sergeant Louis Tomlinson.

 

***

 

Niall Horan is, well, a bastard. You don’t become a mafia boss by smiling at your co-workers and buying sandwiches for the homeless. No, that privilege is earned by a smart mind and a high body count. And because he’s a bastard, it’s no surprise that he tends to hire bastards, because bastards get the job done.

To Zayn’s credit, it’s not really his fault he’s a bastard. Being raised by mobsters has an effect on people, no matter how strong minded and independent they are. It was Niall’s idea to send him to the police academy - the cops were starting to catch up with him, and it never hurts to have someone find out all their secrets. Luckily for Zayn, he apparently has one of those trustworthy faces. His act is bought without question, and soon enough, he finds himself a sergeant. Fuelling one of the most dangerous, illegal gangs in the country, and getting paid a shit ton by the government to do so. There’s a twisted sort of beauty in it, which Zayn can appreciate. He stands on the balcony of his apartment, lights up a cigarette, and looks out across the city he supposedly protects.

Liam Payne is pretty much the polar opposite. He comes from a family of criminals, but he never let it shape him. No, he left that family a - for the most part - honest man, with plans to make his country better, and keep it safe from people like, well, damn near everyone he’s ever known. He joined the academy with good intentions. However, on the day of his graduation, he’s called into the captain’s office, and it’s all sort of downhill from there.

 

***

 

“Liam. Please, take a seat,” Captain Styles gestures to the chair in front of his desk. Next to him, a seemingly disinterested man stands stirring coffee, an eyebrow raised and a folder tucked under his arm. “So. Why is it you decided to become a cop?”

“I think Boston deserves to be protected,” he answers confidently.

“From?” Liam has to double take when the man he decides to call Coffee Man speaks. He wasn’t expecting a voice that high pitched, and it throws him more than he’d like to admit. (So does the fact that Coffee Man is _really fucking hot_ , and it’s hard to concentrate on anything other than the way his trousers cling to his hips, and what they’d look like falling to the floor, and - Jesus, Liam, concentrate.)

“Uh. Crime?”

“Well whoop-de-fucking-do, you’ve recognised that sometimes people do illegal shit. We were kinda hoping for something a little more fucking specific though. Who do you want to protect Boston from? Bank robbers? Spiderman? Or maybe -” Coffee Man pauses to throw the folder down on the table in front of Liam. “ - your Uncle Billy, for example.”

Liam freezes, staring at the folder in front of him. He wasn’t exactly planning to keep it a secret that his family has wiped out half the fucking city, but he didn’t really want his Captain and this random hot Coffee Man knowing on his first day as a cop, either.

“Why don’t you open the folder? We’ve got a whole load of examples of people you want to protect the city from, and you seem to share blood with a fucking lot of them.”

Fuck. This was beginning to feel way too much like an interrogation, and he didn’t think the nervous sweating helped his case.

“You’ll have to forgive Sergeant Tomlinson,” the captain speaks for the first time since asking Liam the question that set all of this off. “He has his own style. We’re not trying to make you uncomfortable. We just want to know -”

“ - why you’re pretending to be a fucking cop.” Coffee Man - or, Tomlinson - finishes off for him.

“I’m not pretending, I want to help.”

“Well. We think you can,” Styles smiles. It’s a nice smile. Liam decides he likes Styles much more than Coffee Prick, despite how pretty he’d probably look covered in hickeys and _for fucks sake Liam concentrate_. “Louis, care to explain?”

Louis. That suits him. Louis Tomlinson, the pretty staff sergeant with fantastic hair and an attitude problem.

“We want you undercover. We think you can infiltrate Niall Horan’s gang, what with your familial connections. You work with him, feed back to us, we put him behind bars, and you get to go home with a pretty little paycheck and too much blood on your hands. Sound fun?”

“Of course that doesn’t sound fun, Louis, I was hoping you’d word it a bit nicer than that.”

“Harry, come on, you realise who you’re talking to?”

“Fair point, you are an asshole.”

Liam’s starting to wonder if maybe they’ve forgotten he’s there. They’re speaking comfortably, and he feels like a tumour overlooking their personal conversation.

“So. Payne. Think you can do it? You’ll have to do some jail time, just to make you more trustworthy to them, and you will, for all intents and purposes, be kicked out of the academy. You won’t be a cop, so they’ll have no reason to think you’re one,” Harry finishes.

“I… maybe?”

“You don’t have much of a fucking choice, Payne.” Louis takes a long sip of his coffee, without taking his eyes off Liam, and Liam thinks maybe he’s going to spit it out onto him if he doesn’t agree.

“Okay, fine! Fine, I’ll do it. I’ll do it.”

 

It’s another hour before Liam can leave, spent discussing techniques, action plans, and whether or not he’d look more like a criminal if he shaved his head. And if Liam goes home and jacks off to the way Louis looked down on him and the sheer amount of power radiating off him, well that’s no one’s business but his.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam begins his mission, and Louis hates people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly an info dump chapter, but don't worry, shit's gonna hit the fan in chapter 3. Also Ashton Irwin is mentioned in this chapter but he's dead so. Anyway I hope you enjoy!

Louis stands at the head of the table, looking over his squad. Most of them feel largely irrelevant to him, but his eyes linger over the brown boy he identifies as Malik just a little longer. They all look like dickheads, he thinks to himself. But he doesn’t say it.

“Serg, anything to say before we start the meeting?” Harry says as he comes in with a coffee, pulling Louis to the side.

Ah, fuck it.

“They all look like dickheads.”

“That’s the spirit,” Harry gives his arm a pat that feels more like a slap before sitting on one of the two chairs reserved for him and his sergeant. He’s long learnt that reacting to Louis’ shitty attitude is pointless, and, honestly, ‘dickhead’ is an improvement compared to what he thought about their last squad.

“Newbies, welcome to the Boston State Police, I’m sure your time here will be miserable as fuck. Are we done with the sentimental bullshit now? Good, let’s get your sad asses to work, which is what you’re supposed to be here for.” Louis gestures to the pictures on the wall. In the middle is Horan’s face, with mugshots of his primary lackeys underneath him. They’re introduced to the squad as Josh, Sandy, and Dan.

“We have reason to believe they were involved in the murder of Ashton Irwin,” Louis clicks the remote in his hand, and the screen above him opens on a photo of a body, lying in a dumpster with a hole in his head. “Irwin worked at a company called TechNorth, who specialised in distributing these microprocessors.” Another click, and this time a small chip appears on the screen. “Put these in a computer, and before you know it, cruise missiles are launching faster than a 12 year old’s cum after he catches a glimpse of his mother’s underwear catalogue.”

“Haunting imagery.”

“Quiet, Styles, I’m talking. These things are worth a hundred grand a piece. And on Tuesday, this rat haired aussie stole five hundred of them. Two days later, he’s found dead, and we believe Horan and his gang of dickheads are responsible.”

“You think they stole the microprocessors? What will they do with them?” Zayn is the first of the squad to speak up. His voice is steady, not a single crack. He speaks respectfully, yet confidently. Louis almost thinks he sounds genuine.

“Sell them, most likely,” Harry answers. “To the Chinese. Which puts us in a bit of a tricky situation.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?” Next guy to speak is a massive arsehole, Louis thinks. He slams his cup down, ignoring the splash of coffee on his hands.

“If you must fucking know, we have an undercover agent in with them, and he’s gonna fucking do a lot more good than you are. Any more questions?”

“Yes.”

It’s Zayn who pipes up with that answer, drawing every eye in the room to him.

“Who is he? Is he in with them now?”

And that’s a big fucking no. Warning sirens wail in Louis’ head, this guy has ‘mole’ written all over him. But right now there’s nothing he can do about it, not enough evidence. Throwing around accusations would be dangerous, would only make him stronger. So he forces a fake smile on his face, and tries his absolute hardest to not throw his coffee all over him.

“Why so fucking curious?”

“With all due respect, if we know who he is and the progress of the mission, it’ll be easier for us to bring down the gang.”

Bollocks. He has a point. But Louis still doesn’t trust him. Not that that’s saying much. Louis doesn’t really trust anyone.

“Yeah. Well. Tough shit. We want as few people as possible knowing his identity, so, go fuck yourself maybe." That earns him a glare that could kill, and Louis wouldn't be surprised if lasers shot out of Zayn's eyes and melted his face off. Louis' going to pretend for the sake of his own sanity that it's because he was being a grade A twat, and not because Zayn was desperate to know who their undercover guy is. The longer he can pretend there isn't a problem, the better. If he can pretend there isn't a problem, he doesn't have to feel guilty for being able to do fuck all about it. It's not a problem. There's not a problem.

***

Liam knocks on the door to his cousin’s house, trying to control the nervous sweat. It wasn’t difficult, six months in jail toughened him up a bit, and he was certainly used to dealing with criminals. Right now his biggest problem is the lack of his pretty boy haircut - they had decided in the end shaving was the best plan, but now Liam has nothing to run his hands through when he gets stressed. Eventually he settles on scratching his hand instead, digging in his nails until he feels the skin crack.

When Cousin Robbie opens the door, the disbelief on his face is almost hilarious. He stinks of weed, and his mop of black hair tangles around his face. His white tank top is practically falling off him, and his arms are bruised.

“If you’re here to arrest me it wasn’t me I wasn’t even in the country I’ve never even met her bro I’m innocent.” The words fall out of his mouth quicker than should be humanly possible. Liam is almost impressed (although right now he’s more concerned about this girl he’s supposedly never met, he always knew he dealt smack but adding rape and/or murder to his list of crimes wasn’t part of the plan.)

“I haven’t been a cop for a year, dude. I’m here for… other reasons. I came into some money. I’m looking for an investment, I’m sure you can help,” Liam says, his face portraying a look of fake innocence, before gesturing to his sofa inside. “Can I come in?” A grin spreads over Robbie’s face, and he laughs as he lets Liam in.

“Knew I could count on you to join the dark side eventually. That whole innocent little statie thing was always a load of bullshit.”

“Ha, yeah, well. Gotta keep up the family tradition, right?” Liam spreads himself out over the couch, lighting up a cigarette and taking in his surroundings. It’s about as glamorous as you’d expect from a heroin dealer, ratty curtains, unmade bed, shit all over the place. He could probably afford better - there’s good money in smack - but when you shoot up half of your supply, this is about as good as it gets.

“So. What is it you want? I got smack, coke, weed, ecstasy, anything else and I’ll have to refer you to my boss.”

“Nothing like that. I want business. I want to turn my 10k into 50k. Think you can help?”

“Me? No. Niall? Absolutely. We’ll head out to pub, I’ll introduce you. But I’m telling you, if you betray him, he will kill you in the most creative way possible. They’ll be finding bits and pieces of you for years to come. So don’t be a prat.”

Don’t be a prat. Easy.

***

Not being a prat is not easy. Five minutes in and he’s already managed to piss off Josh, Niall’s right hand man. To be fair, the arsehole had started it by calling him a “good for nothing pussy ass wankstain.” He absolutely deserved the glass smashed into his head.

Everything’s all cleared up by the time Niall finally arrives. I mean, they’re not holding hands and skipping around rose bushes, but there’s no more violence either. So when Robbie introduces Liam to Niall, it’s no surprise that he’s taken straight into the back to talk business without a talking to about not attacking his potential colleagues.

“So. I’m told you want to double your money. You’ve come to the right man. I can make you rich as fuck, don’t worry about that. But I can also make you dead as fuck, so don’t cross me, got it?”

“Yeah yeah I’ve been told, you’ll kill me in ways I never thought were possible, right? Let’s just get down to business, okay?”

“You’ve got balls. I like that,” Niall smiles, and nods across the room. The next thing he knows, Liam’s being picked up and has hands all over him in places hands definitely should not go unless they buy him dinner first. “Sorry about the fondling. Gotta check for wires.”

“Don’t worry about it. I get that you have to take these precautions no matter how many times I tell you I’m not a fucking cop.”

“Exactly. Glad you understand.” Niall rolls his eyes and sits back, watching the scene unfold before him.

“Guy’s clean, boss.” Liam identifies the guy who speaks as Dan. The six hands have disappeared off his body, and if the handshake he receives from Horan is anything to go by, he’d say he was in.

“Welcome to the team, Liam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I named Liam's cousin after Robbie Williams

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it so far! If you comment I'll probably love you forever.


End file.
